


When exhaustion is all that’s left

by dragoonsbeard



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Capture, Hurt Vinsmoke Sanji, Hurt/Comfort, If You Squint - Freeform, Protective Roronoa Zoro, Rape/Non-con Elements, ZoSan - Freeform, doesn’t actually happen btw, sanji would fight to the death before that happens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 02:49:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20202514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragoonsbeard/pseuds/dragoonsbeard
Summary: Zoro and sanji are captured.Unfortunately it was now- for someone to realize that sanji, was pretty.





	When exhaustion is all that’s left

Zoro wasn’t completely sure how he found themselves here.

With heavy shackles upon his wrists that dug into his tender skin- hands that were wrenched behind his back, jammed against a cold stone wall. Thick chain links that branched off the iron cuffs and had been bolted into the brick behind him. T hankfully his legs had been left unbound and instead were stretched out in front of him.

A meter or two away from from the exasperated swordsman lay swirly cook, upon on his back- arms tied behind him. His legs unlike Zoros own were linked together with an iron chain.

“You dead shit-cook?”

An irate snort echoed within their shared cell “You wish, Marimo bastard” 

With an achingly stiff movement the blond shifted to his side with a wince before finally flopping onto his front. face pressed into the mottled grey slate Sanji pushed his weight forward, with a scuff of metal he quickly slipped his knees beneath him in order to sit upwards into a kneeling position.

The cook didn’t even have the chance to tug at his chains that restrained his arms behind him before a marine sauntered to the pirates shared cell. The both of them watched the soldier with an expression of boredom, it was always a nice tactic and regardless they were too prideful to express much else in the face of an enemy.

The marine hummed thoughtfully, eyes roved over their forms, their shackles their positions before finally resting upon Sanji.  For a marine to observe a new catch wasn’t unheard of- however the nature of the mans gaze had sanji fighting against an overwhelming urge to shudder.

The blond did not dare to look away but instead kept his eyes fixed upon him, the unwavering stalemate of piercing stares soon morphed sanjis look of boredom into defiance.  The cook has experienced many roving eyes in his time, he has seen and felt the leers of garbage people. On occasion shielding a fair lady from such a pilfering look.

But none to this day sent ice shooting down his spine, warning him of immanent danger.

Unconsciously the pirate had tensed his legs pushing his bound ankles together.

This was a mistake,

almost immediately the marines mouth had twisted up at the corners, taking pleasure in the blonds failed attempt at masking his discomfort.

Zoro who sat with his hands jammed behind him observed the body language of both men with narrowed eyes. His instincts were ringing a warning bell, leaving his muscles tensing like a coiled spring beneath his clothes. Preparing himself for an attack.  Soon the rattle of blunt iron keys echoed with the stone cell as the marine slid the lock open with a resounding clunk. Safely discarding the keys by the door rather than his belt- he begun his approach. He creeped slowly, boots pattered the stone in a methodical manner as he circled the cook- like a predator stalking its prey.

A pale hand was suddenly in his line of sight, curling a lock of golden hair in his fingertips.

Sanji immediately snapped his head away- silky strand falling from the marines grip.

It seemed his captor did not like that, with a displeased snarl those same fingertips were digging into the cooks jaw dragging the direction of his face forward once more.  The unnatural silence the accompanied the attentions had the blonds stomach knotting with unease. From his pherepheral vision he could see Zoro barely stopping himself from straining against his bonds. Face twitching in constrained spite.

If the swordsman had failed to notice the marines true intentions earlier- there was no mistaking it  _now_ .

“How  _pretty_ you are”

The soldier drawled lecherously His free hand felt like ants eating away at Sanji's skin when he swept a stray golden hair from of his face. The cook could not shift away from the mans sickly affections due to the binds weighing him down.

The blue of Sanji’s irises steeled coldly. “continue touching my face- and I will bite your fucking fingers straight off Asshole”

In an instant those hands that had previously stroked his pale cheeks had wrapped themselves about the cooks throat before violently cracking the back of his skull upon the stone floor.  For a short moment his vision had fizzled out, the numbness in his limbs left him vulnerable to the marine who had quickly taken advantage of his momentary daze to slip between the loop of sanji’s legs. The shackles rested on the marines lower back as he pressed his hips forward. 

Within his haze Sanji could distinguish the usual calm of Zoro’s baritone growing hoarse from the force of his animalistic snarls. His unbelievably thunderous shouts cleared away the cotton from his crew mate’s ears.

When Sanji came to, it was to the soldier working at the cooks belt unsuccessful due to his sick sense of excitement and Sanji’s preference at purchasing only the best leather beli could buy. The mans nails raked over the exposed flesh of Sanji’s stomach as the man hastily attempted to loosen his buckle. 

As panic soon flooded his veins Sanji thrashed refusing to submit, the marine changed tactics and instead forced his body over the cooks, enclosing him in a bracket of sick intentions. His right hand still fumbled with the metal whilst the left appendage seized Sanji’s thigh in a brutal grip.

The blond jerked forward his forehead collided with his attacker leaving stars dancing about the ceiling. The ringing did not deter Sanji who was relentless in his mission, with swift movements Sanji managed to jar the mans position enough that he could lock his knee beneath the the bastards throat, his other leg stayed trapped awkwardly with the short length of chain.

One leg was all Sanji needed however and he begun to crush the man as desperately as he could, Sanji’s shackled wrists were still pinned beneath his back. The metal cut into his wrists beneath his weight and the weight of the marine that struggled under the death trap that was Sanji’s leg.

Sanji had never felt such a despairing need to end a life like he did now, because he knew if he failed now. If he failed to end this now. Sanji would suffer a fate worse than death.

The soldiers feet scrabbled and skidded, his face begun to tinge purple. But just before his limit was reached the man had grasped a small object from his boot and blindly thrashed.  The glint of silver plunged downwards embedding itself within the cooks hip before slipping out ready for another blow.

Back arched in absolute agony sanji  _screamed_

The pressure on his attackers throat had weakened enough for the man to gain a quick gasping breath. The blond cursed his voice harsh and spilling in disparity. 

The small knife was sailing toward him a once more -but before it could reach its mark the toe of a black boot shot out of no where knocking the blade to the corner of the cell.  Zoro was a few feet from him teeth bared and rearing against the shackles that pinned him to the wall- unable to properly assist sanji who was fiercely battling for his life.

Over the course of the struggle they had skidded closer to the swordsman whose legs whilst outstretched could barely reach them.

For a moment the Crew-mates eyes locked- both thick with an intensity that overwhelmed them both. The clench of the swordsman’s jaw and the fire of his gaze gave the trembling cook a burst of newfound strength.  Ignoring the blinding pain in his side and the hot syrupy blood that smeared across stone sanji tightened his lock ever tighter. And with a ferocious shout a sharp crack split through the sound of struggle. Then there was silence.

Kicking the now limp body away from him the cook slumped, he gasped and he wheezed heart beating wildly in his chest.

That was close. That was way to fucking close.

If he had not been wearing a belt, if he hadn’t sat up onto his knees earlier The was no doubt that he would have been on his front just now- taking something that he never wanted to take. Sanji swallowed back the bile that threatened to rise in his throat and choked back his tears. He had no time for a mental breakdown.

“Cook!” Expression frantic Zoro called to his Nakama who simply lay arms wrenched behind his back, glassy gaze fixed upon the ceiling 

“damit - Sanji!”

Shocked from his internalized turmoil Sanji’s attention snapped to Zoro who was gazing down at him, face frightfully pale.

“Marimo” he whispered voice disconcertingly frail, the insult in this moment was spoken not as a jibe but rather an endearment saturated in the remnants of fear that the cook experienced not moments before

Zoro faltered at the tone before wrenching himself against the chains“Get up-  you need to get up ”

With a feeble nod the blond thrust his hips upwards with a sharp cry and begun the painful action of forcing his bloodied wrists lower, chest heaving and shoulders twinging, the link that bound his hands soon dragged beneath his hips, straining in Sanji’s attempt to slip his legs through and bring his arms to his front.

The slice in his side flared as the fabric of his sleeves grated over the open wound.

When he painstakingly tugged his feet through Sanji noticed that he was only wearing a single shoe- it’s pair had been thrown off during the skirmish.

It was such a simple stupid thing, but as Sanji freed his hands to his front. he laughed, the sound bubbled up from his throat until it left him breathless and aching.

Those shoes never fell off- he kicked in walls, enemy faces and cannon balls with those things and yet of all times for one to fling off, it had to be in this freakin cell.

“Fuck Zoro-“ sanji rasped with a bittersweet smile “I lost my damn shoe”

The swordsman didn’t share the others amusement but instead felt a pang of immediate nausea clawing up his throat. Silently he vowed that he would train himself to escape bonds like these. He never wanted to experience helplessness like this ever again. What’s a first mate that can’t protect the crew when they desperately need it.

With a muffled groan the cook set out to the entrance of the cell, the iron keys that sat upon the stone floor seemed like a depressing distance. By the time he had reached them he could feel his head growing heavy and a frigid cold that begun to seep up the length of his toes. 

Cheek plastered to the slate sanji carelessly threw the keys to Zoro with the remainder of his strength. From here he could see the thick trail of blood he had left behind- he could see the swordsman sweeping for the keys with his boots. 

He just wanted to sleep, for days. On the sunny- curled in a ball on the galleys couch, the lingering scent of his cooking lulling him into silence.

A hand pressed between his shoulder blades startled the blond from his daydream, Zoro without delay unlocked his bonds.

The cook had expected the swordsman to drag him up and encourage him to stumble onwards with insults. That was just how their dynamic was.  Instead the shifting of fabric and a gentle hand on his uninjured hip met him. The swordsman began to delicately wind his red sash around sanji’s wound, working it into a firm bandage that would hopefully delay the bleeding.

Soon Zoro had softly gathered his Nakama into his arms and stepped out into the empty hallway. Sanji had no energy to badmouth the man for cradling him like some damsel, nor any desire to. It seemed that his readiness to be consoled by the warm embrace of his Crewmate was a testament to the sheer fragility of his state.

The methodical clap of Zoro boots upon pavement eventually soothed Sanji into oblivion.

**BONUS**

The light rock of the sunny as she drifted on the glittering waves was a welcome sensation for the cook. He limped barefoot into the galley, the wooden floor felt cold to the touch as he lurched over to the kitchen counter and steadied himself.

It had been a few days since his unfortunate injury at the hands of a marine, and a few grueling days convincing chopper to let him cook. With success finally in his grasp Sanji found himself back in the kitchen where he was best. 

Narrowed eyes raked over the glossy bench searching for any hints of misuse in his absence. Before finally settling upon a foreign black object in the center of its surface.

Waiting patiently beneath the warm light of his kitchen sat a lone black dress shoe. Framed by the remnants of what seemed to be dirt crumbling from his sole onto his sterile kitchen bench.

Sanji blinked and stared for a solid minute- an array of emotions hurdling through his brain, -that marimo remembered his stupid fucking shoe.

The warm sensation that flooded his chest quickly dissipated when the location of said shoe finally registered.

Did that man have any sense of hygiene?

“YOU SHITTY ASS SWORDSMAN! I COOK  _FOOD_ ON THIS FUCKING TABLE!”

**Author's Note:**

> I envisioned this to be one of those long taxing and desperate battles like trying to escape from the coil of a snake-  
not that I have ever been nearly eaten by a snake *laughs suspiciously*


End file.
